


Scars on Our Hearts

by SailorSol



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers Time Force
Genre: Aftermath, Angry Sex, Awkward Romance, Developing Relationship, Idiot Boys Who Suck At Talking About Feelings, M/M, Melodrama, Post-Canon, Slash, Team, Who Gets the Red Beret?, Whoever's On Top, Working For It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorSol/pseuds/SailorSol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They didn’t morph, not if they didn’t absolutely need to. And with all the mutants off in the distant future again, there wasn’t a need. The Silver Guardians dealt with more mundane matters these days. Wes tried not to let that disappoint him; things were better this way. His team--</p><p>No. He wouldn’t think about the others. They only existed now in photographs and memories, and Eric was Wes’s team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars on Our Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missmollyetc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/gifts).



> I hope this lives up to your expectations, Molly! I had a lot of fun writing this, though it turned out less fluffy than I intended. 
> 
> Thanks to Hagar for the beta and support.
> 
> Title from Pink's "Just Give Me a Reason".

Wes doesn’t remember most of the first week After.

It always gets the capital A in his head, and he thinks Eric probably feels that way too. So much changed that Wes couldn’t think in anything other than terms of Before and After.

In some ways, Eric is still a complete mystery to Wes; in others, he’s an open book. A book that Wes had been drawn to from the start, back in high school, back when Wes had just been yet another spoiled rich kid with no dreams or aspirations of his own.

“You’re brooding again,” Eric said from the driver’s seat of their SUV.

“Funny, coming from you.” Almost a month later, the banter with Eric was becoming easier.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s better than your inane chatter,” Eric said. “I’m just worried you’re going to be completely useless in a fight.”

Wes snorted, but didn’t call Eric out on his bullshit excuse. Wes _knew_ Eric, these days, and knew that beneath the scathing sarcasm was someone who cared a little too much sometimes. “I seem to recall being able to kick your ass even on a bad day.”

“Like hell you could.”

“Any time, any where. Just name the time and place,” Wes said. “We can settle this once and for all.”

Eric glanced sideways at him, keeping one eye on the road. “Maybe we can.”

* * *

They didn’t morph, not if they didn’t absolutely need to. And with all the mutants off in the distant future again, there wasn’t a need. The Silver Guardians dealt with more mundane matters these days. Wes tried not to let that disappoint him; things were better this way. His team--

No. He wouldn’t think about the others. They only existed now in photographs and memories, and Eric was Wes’s team.

He got up from his office and went to Eric’s. He’d stopped bothering with excuses two weeks before.

* * *

Wes didn’t look up from his pile of paperwork when his office door opened. Not until a large brown paper bag landed on the form he was filling out.

“Beef curry,” Eric said, not waiting for Wes’s question. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Wes arched an eyebrow. “And you’ve been keeping track?”

“Someone has to,” Eric said. He looked about as tired as Wes felt, but they’d been busy for the last few days. There’d been a series of robberies around town, and the cops had called in the Silver Guardians for extra help guarding potential target locations.

“And when was the last time you ate?” Wes asked. “Or went home, for that matter?”

They both kept spare uniforms at the office, and there was a room with cots and a shower. Wes tried not to make a habit of spending the night, but he knew Eric did, sometimes. Eric shrugged. “I swung by my place for lunch.”

Which probably meant he hadn’t slept there the night before, and didn’t guarantee Eric had actually eaten anything since the stale muffins and burnt coffee they’d had that morning. Wes pulled the takeout containers out of the bag, handing a tray of food across the desk to Eric; he took it without argument, which was a surprising new change.

“You wanna talk about it?” Eric asked, after they’d both shoveled down a few forkfuls of beef and rice and still-warm naan.

Wes blinked. “Talk about what? My paperwork?”

Eric gave him an incredulous look. “You really haven’t noticed, have you.”

“Apparently not, Mr. Observant One. Please, tell me what I have failed to notice this time.”

Eric hesitated. That was never a good sign. His hesitation didn’t last long, but his expression had shifted to the sour one Wes hadn’t seen in a while. “It’s been one year since you became a Ranger.”

At least Eric had the decency not to drop that on Wes mid-bite. It still blindsided him, and he put his fork down, appetite gone. “Has it.” Wes stood, suddenly feeling like he was suffocating.

“Wes--”

“I’m fine,” Wes said, cutting him off.

“Like hell you are.” Eric stood as well, blocking Wes’s exit from the office. “You haven’t been fine since Jen and the others left.”

Wes turned his back on Eric, his shoulders hunching in. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Wes wasn’t expecting Eric to spin him around and shove his back up against the wall. They were fairly equally matched in size and strength, but Wes was stunned enough that he didn’t even try to struggle against the arm Eric had pressed across his chest. “Look, Collins, I’m sick of you wandering around, acting like the last year meant nothing to you.”

Wes felt his eyes go wide. “What?”

Eric scowled, and then--

Wes let his eyes slide closed as Eric kept him pinned against the wall with his body and his lips against Wes’s. Eric pulled away, too soon, and Wes was glad he had something to brace himself against.

By the time Wes opened his eyes, Eric had left.

* * *

Eric avoided him the entire next day, which was an impressive feat considering that they worked together. But they were both responsible for assigning tasks, which meant Eric could give himself a job that kept him out of the office and away from Wes.

Wes paced, licking his lips as if he could get another taste of Eric’s mouth that way. He’d done the same, after Jen had kissed him. She’d tasted of spearmint and lemon; Eric tasted of curry and black pepper. He wasn’t sure which he liked better, and tried not to think about why that thought bothered him.

 _Jen’s gone_ , he reminded himself. _Would she really want me doing the same thing to Eric that she did to me?_

He didn’t have an answer to that. He was tempted to call her on the transmitter the team had left behind, but Wes knew it was for emergencies only. And calling Jen for dating advice definitely wasn’t an emergency.

_Damn it, Eric, why do you always do this to me?_

* * *

They’d kissed once, in high school, and then Eric had run off and dropped out of school. When Eric didn’t show up in the office for a second day in the row, Wes started worrying Eric was pulling the same stunt again.

And the bastard had taken the red beret.

 _Fine. If that’s how you want to do this_ , Wes thought, grabbing the keys for a spare SUV.

Eric was at the BioLab office; officially, he was there on an inspection of the Silver Guardians who worked there full time. Unofficially, he was making Wes chase after him. He found Eric on the third floor, walking out of Dr. Zaskin’s lab. Wes wasn’t sure if Eric had timed that--how he could have, if he had--but there was an almost-smirk on Eric’s face when he saw Wes standing at the end of the hallway.

“Come to check up on me? You know I’ve been doing this longer than you have,” Eric said, crossing his arms.

So they were back to this game. Wes sighed and turned away; Eric wanted to goad him into something, but Wes couldn’t go through this. Not again. “You look good in the beret. You should keep it.”

He didn’t wait for Eric’s smartass response, heading up towards his father’s office; it was the one place he knew Eric wouldn’t think to look for him.

* * *

The next three days were busy and they didn’t have time to talk about anything except work. There was a big political conference in town, and the Silver Guardians were contracted with security. It was good exposure for them, and neither Wes nor Eric would let their personal lives get in the way of what was best for the Guardians. So they planned and organized and delegated and didn’t allow themselves to be alone together.

On the fourth day, after attempting to work for half the morning and getting nothing done, Wes crossed the ten paces into Eric’s office.

“Why?” he asked, not bothering to knock as he shut the door behind him.

Eric looked up and leaned back in his chair. “Nice to see you, too. Come in, have a seat. Make yourself at home.”

“Why’d you do it, Eric?” Wes asked, not moving from the door.

Eric looked like he was considering playing dumb, but then his shoulders slumped, just a little, and Wes knew he wouldn’t. “Because you’ve been an idiot for the last three months and I was sick of it.”

Wes leaned back against the wood and cool glass, feeling as if he’d been punched. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but that hadn’t been it. He rubbed a hand wearily across his face. “I’m taking the rest of today off. Call if there’s an emergency.”

He was getting good at not letting Eric have the last word.

* * *

They spent another week pretending like the kiss hadn’t happened. Neither of them wore the red beret. Eric went running into a burning building and came out morphed with one kid riding piggyback and another in his arms, their mother stumbling along next to him.

Wes wanted to punch him; instead, he went to help refill air bottles for the firefighters. By the time they cleared the scene, Eric was gone.

“Where’s Eric?” Wes asked Danvers, one of their squad leaders.

“Went to the hospital with that woman and her kids,” Danvers replied.

Wes swallowed down the fear; Eric had morphed, which meant he couldn’t have been injured that badly, if at all. He forced a smile onto his face and clapped Danvers on the shoulder. “Thanks. I’ll go see if he needs a ride back to the office.”

The drive to the hospital didn’t take long. Wes tried to avoid the place, when he could; too many bad memories of walking into that room to find an empty bed where his father should have been. But Eric had morphed, which meant he’d feel like crap for the rest of the day as withdrawal set in, and Wes wanted to make sure he made it home okay.

 _Keep telling yourself that, Collins_.

Eric was at the nurse’s station in the emergency department when Wes got there. He looked pale, leaning against the counter in what he probably supposed was a casual pose. Wes could see the weariness and the way Eric tensed as Wes approached.

“How’re the kids?” Wes asked, flashing the nurse at the desk a smile so she would ignore them.

“Some smoke inhalation, minor burns, they’ll be fine,” Eric replied, not bothering to straighten.

Wes wanted to punch him again, or lecture him on being an idiot for running into a burning building, but the truth was, Eric had just moved faster than Wes had and beaten him inside. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

Eric didn’t even bother arguing, following Wes back out to the SUV. He didn’t even try and take the driver’s seat, slumping down in the leather of the passenger side. Wes gripped the steering wheel tightly, staring across the parking lot, but didn’t start the engine.

“You know, it works a hell of a lot better if you put the key in the ignition first,” Eric said.

Wes huffed, something halfway between a laugh and a groan of frustration. “Damn it, Eric, what the hell were you thinking?” he asked, hitting his open palm against the wheel hard enough to hurt.

“I was thinking that there were people inside and someone needed to get them out, that’s what I was thinking,” Eric shot back, no longer slumped.

“Fuck,” Wes swore, the anger bleeding out of him. He rested his forehead against the wheel. “I can’t do this, Eric. You can’t just...”

“Can’t what? Do my damned job?”

“You can’t just kiss me and then walk away and tell me it means nothing!”

Eric didn’t respond. Wes started the car and pulled out of the lot, headed for Eric’s condo. The drive itself was silent, broken only by chatter on the police scanner mounted under the dash. Wes stopped at the curb in front of Eric’s door. “I’ll pick you up on my way in tomorrow,” Wes said, not looking towards Eric.

“It didn’t mean nothing,” Eric replied.

Wes fought to keep his voice calm. “Then what did it mean?”

“They’d want you to stop living in the past,” Eric said.

Wes couldn’t stop the bitter laugh. “It’s not the past I’m living in.”

“Damn it, Wes, and people call me the stubborn one?” Eric got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Wes followed him, ignoring that the car was parking in a fire lane; it was a Silver Guardians vehicle, no one would try to ticket him.

“Why won’t you just _talk_ to me?” he asked, coming around the back of the SUV. Eric was three steps up his walkway, but stopped. He turned and stalked back towards Wes, blocking him towards the side of the car.

“You want me to talk? Fine,” Eric said. He took one more step forward, kissing Wes.

Wes moaned into the kiss, and Eric backed him against the door. Wes couldn’t stop himself from grinding against the knee Eric had shoved between his legs.

And then Eric stepped back and Wes had to swallow a noise of loss. But Eric wasn’t walking away, just giving Wes an assessing look. “Inside. We’re not done with this conversation.”

He turned and headed inside. Wes followed.

* * *

The sex was angry and too-quick, uniforms ripped off and scattered on the floor before they’d both barely made it through the door. Wes had never done this, but he _needed_ , and Eric was more than willing.

Neither of them made an effort to untangle from the exhausted heap after. Wes’s head had ended up on Eric’s chest, listening to his slowly-steadying heartbeat while Eric traced idle patterns on Wes’s back.

“So what did it mean?” Wes asked, picking up the thread of conversation from earlier.

Wes felt Eric’s chest rise and fall slowly in a sigh more than he heard it. “I’m not looking for you to forget about her, Wes, but you can’t keep living in the pa--the future,” he amended, before Wes could snap at him again.

Wes listened to Eric’s heart, timed his breathing to match Eric’s, sorting through the sluggish thoughts in his head. “This isn’t...” He sighed, sitting up. “It’s not just about Jen, you know.” Eric didn’t move, didn’t speak, waiting for Wes to continue with one eyebrow arched. “Do you remember that day, in high school?”

“Which day in high school?” Eric asked dryly.

Wes rolled his eyes. “The day you kissed me and then dropped out.”

Eric responded after a beat of silence. “What about it?”

Wes huffed, straddling Eric. He leaned forward, resting some of his weight on Eric’s shoulders to keep him down, their faces inches apart. “This isn’t just about Jen,” he repeated. “I can’t... Please don’t leave me again.”

He hadn’t meant to sound quite so much like he was begging, but Wes couldn’t handle another relationship if Eric was just going to walk away from him again.

Eric studied him carefully before reaching up, running one finger tenderly down Wes’s cheek. “I’ll stay on one condition.”

Wes swallowed and nodded. “Anything.”

“I get the red beret.”

**Author's Note:**

> This can kind of be read as a companion piece to [Not Broken, Just Bent](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1105048), with the understanding that the entire thing leads to Wes/Jen/Eric (well, really, it's Wes/Jen and Eric/Taylor, but Jen and Taylor have an understanding that they share their husbands and are totally okay with that because they are awesome women who are not worried about stuff like that.)


End file.
